Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
He shoved his face hard in my neck.
The tears gathered in my eyes again.
“You won’t miss the first steps this time,” I whispered.
“Quiet,” he groaned.
I fell silent.
Darius covered me, keeping me warm, shutting out the world, making it just us.
Eventually, though, he had to shift. We had to sleep. We had a big day the next day. Not only dinner at his mom’s, but I’d just decided we were filling his truck, and my car, and Liam’s.
We could rent my place furnished for a while.
See how that went.
And then decide if we wanted to sell.
So yeah, there it was.
I came up the rear.
But it was official.
I was a Rock Chick now.
“I’m gonna clean you up,” he said.
“Works for me.”
He lifted his head to kiss me.
Then he set about taking care of me.
Although Liam had undoubtedly learned his lesson that first night, since then, neither Darius nor I slept naked. So when he came back after taking the washcloth to the bathroom, he brought my nightie from the hook on the back of the door. He nabbed my panties from the floor. He gave both to me then went to get his plaid pajama bottoms.
I didn’t exit our bed as I shimmied into my nightclothes.
Darius turned off the lights and joined me.
We cuddled in the middle.
“So what do you think?” I asked him in the dark. “Spring wedding? Summer?”
“I don’t give a shit, if, when it’s done, God and country know you’re mine, I’ll be there. And we’re gonna do a lot of dancing.”
I smiled into the shadows.
“Summer it is.”
Chapter Eighteen
Family Dinner
“I understand what you’re saying. And obviously, when he’s a grown adult, he can do what he wants, but right now, it’s about respect,” I said to Darius.
“He can respect you, and me, by keeping his room clean. By doing his chores. By getting his homework done without us havin’ to ride his ass. By helpin’ with dinner and cleanup after. Him not saying shit and fuck is bowing to the bullshit, baby,” Darius said to me.
“Yeah, what Dad said,” Liam said, also to me.
We were in Darius’s truck on the way to Miss Dorothea’s. Even though my son’s legs were longer than mine, like when we went to Carmine’s, Darius wouldn’t hear of me giving Liam the front seat. He was in the back.
And we were again on the subject of cursing.
“Also by offering up no grumbling or backtalk,” Darius added pointedly.
Liam didn’t pipe up to that.
Even though Darius had scored one for me with that last bit, I crossed my arms and groused, “I’m obviously not going to win, but whatever. Let’s see how Miss Dorothea feels about Liam dropping the F-bomb and the S-bomb and the D-bomb and the H-bomb all over her doilies.”
And yes, that was Darius’s mom. Sweet. Quiet. Loving. Made great cookies. And she collected antique doilies.
“It isn’t about winning, sweetheart. I can tell this is important to you, and I’d roll over for you in just about anything, if it wasn’t important to me too. Who said the woman’s place was in the home? The establishment. Who said a Black man couldn’t fall in love with a white woman, or vice versa? The establishment. Who said gay people were unnatural? The establishment. Who said dealing drugs was worse than rape so the sentences for those offenses are longer? The establishment. Fuck that. And fuck them for telling me, or my son, or you, or anyone they can’t say fuck.”
That was a great speech.
And the best part about it?
“You’d roll over for me in just about anything?” I asked.
Darius was silent for a beat, then he busted out laughing.
I enjoyed it then I turned to look at my boy in the back. “Just temper it, okay? And please, be careful with your mouth around both your grandmothers.” I shot him a jaunty smile. “They’re not as cool as your mom.”
I saw the white flash of his teeth in his handsome face before he said, “’Kay, Mom.”
Darius reached out a hand to me.
I took it.
And the rest of the way to his mom’s, we held hands.
I was surprised to find she didn’t live in the same house, at the same time unsurprised.
Mister Morris was all over their old house. He’d put in the landscaping. He’d sacrificed his garage by making it into a rec room for his kids. He’d built the back deck.
There were some who would find those constant reminders of a lost loved one a balm.
And some would find them torture.
I was glad she’d moved, because I’d loved Mister Morris, and I would find them torture.
Obviously, Miss Dorothea did too.
There were two spiffy cars parked at the curb in front of her house when we pulled into the drive, and I reckoned Danni and Gabby’s interior design business was going well. They had talent, that was clear.